The Ebb of the Tide
by Eomer'sFaelwen
Summary: Under a moonlit sky, Emma sits on the shore of Neverland contemplating the impossible journey before them, until she finds some small bit of comfort from the pirate she has come to know so well.


Emma Swan was never one to sit and admire beauty, but the shores of Neverland had a pull that was not easily ignored.

She sat peacefully on the beach, taking in the sights and sounds. She hadn't realized how much she'd needed the solitude, but now that it was hers she relished in the small amount of peace it brought. The rest of their party was grouped further down the beach, a small fire casting a flickering glow that lit the deep inky night. She would go and join them soon, if only because she wanted the end of her solitude to be her choice, instead of Mary Margaret or David being the unwelcome intrusion that ended the moment.

Her gaze shifted back out over the water. The moon seemed to hold a special allure for her tonight. Perhaps she was caught in the same incomprehensible pull that guided the tide in its rise and ebb. It's pitted and pockmarked surface gleamed bright, a beacon in the otherwise impenetrable darkness. It was bigger here, and she wondered whether it was even her moon that she had known all her life. They were, after all, in a different world entirely.

Her expression shifted into a slight frown as she thought about that strange reality for not the first time. Magic occasionally overwhelmed her when she allowed it to. The fact that it existed in the first place was something that she still struggled to contend with. The fact that she herself could actually wield it...well, that was something that she wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole until she could come to terms with the first one. At least, not if she wanted to keep her sanity.

The night breeze that blew steadily off the water chilled her in spite of the warm wool coat she wore. The days in Neverland were hotter and more humid than anything in Maine, but the nights were known to dip below freezing even in the midst of summer. She shivered slightly as the wind cut through the heavy material, and hugged her frame a little tighter.

Her gaze shifted down to the sand beneath her. The moonlight made it look as through she were sitting amidst a sea of diamonds, each twinkling brightly if she shifted her head back and fourth. She was sitting perilously close to the shoreline, the water inching closer as the moon above coaxed the tide further inward. A few more minutes and the water would reach her outstretched toes. But for now, she was safe from the swirling depths.

She let a soft sigh slide past her lips. Here she was, sitting on the beach, when she should be out scouring the dense jungle for any trace of Henry. Not for the first time, she considered bolting into the trees, suddenly tense and desperate to start their search. But she knew the others would wrestle her back to the beach. She could feel a pair or two of eyes on her even now, watching, waiting, making sure she was still right where she said she'd be. Her body began to relax, the flight ebbing out of her almost as quickly as it had returned. She began to remember why she had agreed to wait until morning. The jungle at her back was vast and dark, filled with creatures to which Hook assured her she couldn't even put a name. There were, he said, plants that could kill with a single touch, things that haunted the dark shadows that were neither man nor beast, and magic that neither she, nor Rumplestiltskin would be able to control. She shivered again, though the wind was still.

Her head fell into her hands as she felt the sudden hopelessness of their situation. Her legs pulled closer to her body, her elbows resting across the tops of her knees as she tried to remind herself to breathe. She would be no help to Henry like this. She had to pull herself back together, as she had so many times before.

A sudden weight settled gently across her shoulders, bringing welcome warmth with it. She raised her head slowly, her eyes finding the pirate that stood above her. His hook gleamed silver in the moonlight, its curve glinting wickedly at his side.

With sinuous, cat-like grace, he sank to the ground beside her, his eyes never leaving her own.

"In about 10 minutes you're going to be in the ocean," he said softly, the hint of mischief not quite concealing the concern that colored his voice.

She broke his gaze, her eyes returning to her previous study of the face of the moon, trying to find the elusive man that some said you could see back in their world. But this was a different moon, she reminded herself, she wouldn't find him waiting there.

She jumped slightly, surprised when he grasped her left hand. He paused for a moment, searching her eyes and, finding no hint of rejection there, proceeded with his task. She watched as his fingers delicately danced across her skin, lightly caressing every unblemished inch. Tenderly, he turned her hand over, repeating the process on her palm.

"This has healed nicely," he murmured, eyes flicking up to catch her own questioning ones as his fingers traced the pink, puckered scar on her palm, "Glad to see my rum didn't go entirely to waste."

She smiled slightly in spite of herself. Gently, she pulled her hand from his own, not entirely comfortable with the flutter she could feel low in her belly, the stirrings of some long forgotten and neglected creature that she couldn't content with just yet.

"Where do we start?" she asked quietly, not hearing the second meaning until she had said the words aloud.

He looked at her for a moment, studying her features, trying to decide what she had meant. Apparently, he had heard both questions. "The mermaids," he answered, avoiding the other, silent question. "If anyone on this island knows where your boy is, it would be them."

She was silent, staring out at the moon's rippling reflection on the water.

"Okay," she breathed, both relieved and worried that they now had a plan of action. She wouldn't be herself until they found Henry again. She neither knew nor liked the nervous, indecisive creature she had become since he had been taken, and she resolved to do whatever she could to find her son, and herself, again.

"We'll find him lass," promised Hook, claiming her hand once more. "But sitting here won't do it. Come back to the fire and get some sleep. We have some long days ahead, and the best you can do to prepare is to rest. Come..."

She felt him stand beside her and gently pull her to her feet, her hand still firmly clasped in his own. She took a deep breath, steadying herself, and walked back toward the flickering light of the fire, Hook's reassuring presence close beside her.


End file.
